2014-04-21 - On the Team
It's another quiet night at the gym. Ted is sitting alone at the coffee bar as he usually does on down time. He's cleaning another box of things out. This one is filled with various scrapbooks because memories don't belong on a goddam Stark Tablet. he must be feeling nostalgic because he's also wearing his costume though the cowl is pulled back and makes a furry collar. Some jazz is playing softly in the background and an old black and white movie is on the tv monitor. It looks like Prisoner of Zenda. He's smiling slightly as he looks over the book of clippings and notes. The door opens. It had been locked, but that was a small matter for the Dark Knight. This time, he's not crashing in or smashing in. But this time, he doesn't have Robin's monitors showing one of his sidekicks is dying inside this gym, either. He steps in, looming just inside the doorway, scowling. This was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to. But it must be had. "Wildcat," he intones. Batwing should be right behind him. It is good for the boy to see how to handle such things. Wildcat looks up from the book and relaxes when he sees who it is. "Ah. Batman. To what do I owe the honor? Please come in." He closes the book and sets out a coffee mug. Barely aware of it he throws the cowl over his face as if to be ready for an emergency call. Pouring the coffee is also a reflex. Batwing is right behind him. His darker but still Robin-ish outfit making him stand out from his father's other intern. He steps into the room behind Batman and gives Wildcat a small nod of greeting and a smile. The scowl... darkens some. Whatever it was Batman had come for, it certainly wasn't somethign he was pleased about. "You saved Robin's life," he says finally. "I owe you." The door latches behind the Bats, as the taller, older one strides into the room more fully. "I owe you a great deal." The tone to that last has the slight undercurrent of a man who has recently had his arm twisted by his... better half. "Thank you." Wildcat smiles a little as he sees 'the Little Guy.' He sets another cup out and then one for himself. He stops as Batman grinds out a thank you and frowns a little. "I didn't do nothing but set the lad's finger and shoulder. He was concussed and lacerated, whoever does your stitching up saved him really. You don't have to thank me. In fact you should give me a belt in the mouth. At the very least." Batwing heads more fully into the gym as well, and with the familiarity of someone who visited often, hops onto a bar stool and takes the offered cup of coffee. He doesn't glance back at his Father, he can already see the Bat-Scowl in his mind's eye. "We have a mutual acquaintance," Batman says. It's not harsh, but it's certainly not friendly. There is respect there, though. "Occasionally I take her advice. I would like to extend the offer to allow you to operate in Gotham. Patrol." His scowl doesn't change. "As long as you abide by the ground rules." No killing. No guns. "I have business that may keep me away for awhile. I would like to know my city is in good hands." Ah. The crux of it, perhaps. Wildcat raises an eyebrow at that. The mutual acquaintance ... could be Polly. Could be Selina. "Son ... and I say that because I'm old enough to be your grand dad, no disrespect ... I was one of the people who wrote those rules back in the day. But as for patrolling ... I don't know that you'd really want me. I was the guy that let that Jay bird hang around here. I let him get under my radar trying to help him. Screwed up kids were always my weakness. I don't know if you want me hanging with your kids after that. Hey ... do you actually feed them kids? They eat like locusts." Wildcat looks like he has something more to say and is pondering the right way to say it. Batman looks back at Wildcat, eyes glittering behind the cowl. "Don't blame yourself for 'Jay bird'. The fault lies with me, for him." "We do not eat like locusts, we're far more hungry than that," Batwing protests with a grin. "And yes, what Batman said, Jaybird fooled us all. Me in particular." Wildcat looks at Bat-Wing ravening through the scones and says, "How do you afford all them gizmos footing the bill for their eats? ... I've been patrolling for the last few weeks. I figured you were too busy to have 'the talk' with me. So what did you have in mind for me to do while you're away? Would I have a way to contact your study group or what?" Batman actually almost quirks a slight smile at that-- the comment about his kids and their voracous appetites. But the scowl returns-- Selina must have /known/ the man was already patrolling and that's why... Damned woman. Still, Batman had given his word. He tosses Wildcat a communicator. "I "It will be able to communicate with our mutual acquaintance as well as my... interns." If it can call Batman himself, the man gives no indication. Batwing doesn't comment at first too busy putting scones into his gob. The communicator though earns a smile. Then when he's swallowed down a bite he says "See, you're part of the team now." Wildcat looks at the communicator. For a second he considers it. He has to remind himself people have secrets for a reason. It's not for him to call them out. But he takes a deep breath. This has to be said, I'm going to tell you sometyhing you need to hear, Mr. Aloof. This kid needs to hear it too." "I'm proud of you ... I'm proud to have taught you for the time I did. You're doing ... a hell of a job. One I never could do. When others screw with you and try to tell you different tell them to pee up a bat-rope," Wildcat says. "You know the ones I mean ..." He mimes flying with his hands, aiming a power ring, then using a whip or golden lasso. Batman's expression is blank as Wildcat makes his comments, not giving away any opinions on those heroes one way or another. He simply nods, in agreement and appreciation for the compliment. Batwing glances between the two at the mention Wildcat had trained his father. His expression when it returns to Wildcat seems to contain a great deal more respect. He sips his coffee. "Anyhow the other heroes are lame. Tt. Powers." Wildcat slaps Bat-Wing on the arm. "Watch this scene ... the guard runs down the staircase and runs his sword through the door. Now when they were shooting it ... they had an Olympic Fanecing master for a stunt consultant. He said to do it safely the stuntman needed his wrist taped a certain way. Needed the section of door replaced with balsa. The director says, "B.S. I'm not holding up production for a couple hours to do that. Here, Watch!" He grabs the sword and runs it into the door and pow. Multiple fractures of the radius and ulna. Production is suspended for a week till the guy is off pain meds. Now tell me skeezix ... which person in this story is like Batman?" Batman's eyes narrow, but the story was for Batwing, so he doesn't speak... yet. Batwing glances over when his arm is slapped, but keeps his mouth shut and watches the scene. "Easy," he answers when the question is asked. "The stunt coordinator." Of course in that metaphor that probably makes Batwing the director. Wildcat shakes his head. "Nope. You want to try, Bats?" Batman scowls more darkly. "I am not entirely sure why this is relevant." Wildcat shakes his head. "Nope. Bats is the stuntman. He's the guy who does the actual job but makes sure he has all the info to do it right. And he is often overlooked in the background. All right. I dispensed all my wisdom for the night. One day you should come by for some coffee and actually drink it with me Batman. Then I'll consider us even." Batman nods. "Sometime. But... we have business to attend to. Batwing." And the Dark Knight moves towards the door in a ripple of darkness and cloak, and is gone. Batwing smirks and finishes off the rest of his scone before he heads out after Batman. He turns and says to Wildcat. "He is that," he agrees about the analogy. "Anyhow, I will be back, say hi to Stretch and Tony for me." Then he's gone after Batman, cape fluttering behind.